My last 3 days in Rome were nice and relaxing. So nice and relaxing in fact that I probably could go without writing this post. Alas, that would likely piss off my gracious host, Nicole, who let me stay at her apartment for three nights, so I suppose I’ll at least casually mention what went down.
For all those readers out there who theorized that my insane eating diet in Italy would cease along with Sam’s presence…you were sadly mistaken. Not long after our goodbye at Pizza Boom, Nicole and I hopped over to a little spaghetti place near her apartment where we devoured two plates of delicious Riggatoni Vodka. She also taught me the perils of eating in Italian restaurants that made me cringe: they add 3 euros to the bill automatically in exchange for “free” bread and they don’t serve tap water. Nicole made me order seltzer water which I do not like in the slightest, so I ended up paying for water which I didn’t even want. A low point in my career as a consumer.
Nicole and I had planned to watch a movie that night, but my eyes could not stay open so we abandoned ship and turned in early. Where did I sleep? My room in London is a single with a bed, a sink, a fridge, a desk, and yellow walls. Nicole’s apartment in Rome had a freaking guest room. I had my own room, my own bed, and best of all, a shared bathroom with 2 other girls.
The next few days I had a great time doing 2nd tier touristy things with Nicole. We went to a flea market and got 2 pairs of sunglasseses for 6 euros. I like shopping at markets where you can barter. The key is to not be infactuated with an item. They can usually tell if you’re going to buy it. Rather, find something you’d consider buying or kind of want, ask how much it is, and then start to walk away. One of two things will happen: a) they’ll call you back and lower the price (jackpot!) or b) you’ll walk away asking yourself if you have too much pride to turn around and buy it. If you get a), you’re golden. If they lower the price even once, they’ll definitely be willing to lower it some more. You’re welcome.
We also went to the gardens, a couple more restaurants and gelaterias, some bars and clubs (where Nicole’s roommate Kelly helped me steal a sweet Nastro Azzura glass), and I did some exploring of mine own in St. Peters at the Vatican. All in all it was a great few days of exploring Rome, seeing Nicole, and relaxing.
Getting home, however, was not so relaxing. There was this massive strike or protest going on in the street between Nicole’s house and the road to the train station where I had to catch a shuttle to my plane. Needless to say, there was a roadblock and the police wouldn’t let me go through. I don’t think I looked like a protester and I tried to explain to the guy that I was just trying to catch my plane, but sadly he didn’t speak English. Here is a video of the madness in the street from earlier in the day (I saw a commotion and assumed it must be the pope coming, so I stuck around):
I did make it to the train station eventually, but I had to hop on a different shuttle to make it to the airport on time. Oh those crazy Italians!
Next up: Amsterdam, Paris, and a week with my broskie.
